Photoessay #2430 - Disabilities bus

Or, as they prefer it, Dial-a-ride.

The University of Washington operates a disabilities bus to help people with permanent or temporary disabilities get around the large un-flat campus.  I always though it might come in handy for something.  Last spring, I had a section in Fisheries, a building near the end of the known universe.  That's why I got in the section, because nobody wanted to go to Fisheries.  I looked at the walk; looked pretty difficult with me and my old lady roller bag. 

So I arranged to take the disabilities bus from one of my bus stops.  You have to go at certain times.  Generally I was quite satisfied.  After a few weeks, my instructor managed to move the section out of dreaded Fisheries to a more convenient location. 

The literature said you could use the service for up to four weeks then you had to consult the Disabilities office.  No problem, I thought, I'm already considered a disabled student.  I didn't worry my head about it.

But now I'm faced with Denny Hall.  It's not THAT bad but it's the oldest building and I think it's at the highest point.  It's pretty far from my bus.  Winter quarter, I made my way to the Art building and that was ok.  But when you get to the Art building you are only about half-way there and it's uphill.  I determined that it was likely too much for me and my roller bag. 

So I filled out the form to set it up getting there for the quarter.  I figured I could back under my own power.  It's downhill and I can pick up books at nearby Foster library.  But then the nice man called me and said I was not currently eligible.  I was only approved for Disabled Parking.  I did have a phone interview with the disabilities guy this morning and he approved me. 

So I'm back on board.  Luckily I have no shame.  Whatever it takes to get around, I will do it.

But, as blog readers know, I unwitting enabled the disabilities situation last spring.  The main lecture was at Anderson Hall (completely inaccessible) upstairs, no elevator.  Big class (150).  The disabilities people said they would move the class.  But I hated that, mess up everybody else.  So I just made it work by asking people to carry up my old lady roller bag.  I did talk to the Young Professor and he was cordial but didn't get it.  He got it back big time when he invited the elderly Holocaust survivor lady to speak.  She could not get up the stairs.  Eventually the Young Professor along with the lady's son who had brought her did get her up the stairs.  He was so upset that there was no elevator, really shook up.  I gently reminded him that I had mentioned it earlier in the quarter.  "I just had no idea," he kept sputtering.  Bet he never makes that mistake again. 

I thought I was helping things by not insisting on my rights as a disabled student.  Making do as many older women are used to doing.  But it helped set up the mess with the Holocaust survivor.